


Satisfaction

by Lilibet



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Bottom Qui-Gon Jinn, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Getting Together, M/M, Obi-Wan is too hot and Qui-Gon can't cope, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Qui-Gon Jinn Lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:54:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25573174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilibet/pseuds/Lilibet
Summary: The sun was past midday by the time he rose, feeling rested, but restless, his thoughts straying to Obi-Wan. It didn’t take long to find him, spying a flash of red in the corner of his eye just as he finished his meal.
Relationships: Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 19
Kudos: 110





	Satisfaction

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a picture of a lightsaber rapier and enabled by the wonderful people of the Quiobi discord.
> 
> Also, featuring this beautiful art by [Midnightdelirium](https://midnightdelirium.tumblr.com)!

It had been far too late for Qui-Gon’s liking by the time he returned to the Temple, and he’d immediately stripped and fallen into bed, sleeping through the morning and into the afternoon.

The sun was past midday by the time he rose, feeling rested, but restless, his thoughts straying to Obi-Wan. It didn’t take long to find him, spying a flash of red in the corner of his eye just as he finished his meal.

He followed the tug in his chest, letting it lead him to where he needed to be, until he found Obi-Wan alone in the salle. He looked radiant, the sunlight setting his hair on fire, his robes perfectly pressed and tailored to his body, and Qui-Gon thought: _yes, I’m home_.

“A spar.” Obi-Wan said, brandishing an unfamiliar saber with an elaborate hilt, metal twisting around the handle and glinting in the light. He smirked at Qui-Gon, chin jutting out, play-acting a haughty senator. _Like that, then._

“You’re recovered, then?” Qui-Gon grinned at him.

“I demand satisfaction.”

“Are you sure you can take me?” Qui-Gon asked, “I wouldn’t wish to...overstretch you too soon.”

Obi-Wan laughed, “Oh rest assured, I most certainly can _take_ you.”

The tease in his words was unmistakable, and Qui-Gon felt a tingle begin low in his gut. He looked at Obi-Wan and let some of his hunger slide into his gaze, a thrill running through him when Obi-Wan’s breath caught in his throat.

“You should’ve seen the sea on Nata V, Obi-Wan. A violet maelstrom, churning and crashing against the ivory mountainside, one unstoppable force against another-”

“Qui-Gon” Obi-Wan said firmly, “A match.”

Qui-Gon chuckled, unclipping his lightsaber from his belt, “Alright.”

Obi-Wan seemed restless, full of energy and raring to go, a mirror to Qui-Gon himself and a far cry from the man he had left in the healing halls two months ago. A broken leg on their previous mission had put him out of action, an injury that even Obi-Wan couldn’t walk off (although he’d certainly tried, much to Qui-Gon’s eternal chagrin). Qui-Gon had missed him daily on the ensuing mission the council had sent him on, softly kissing the back of Obi-Wan’s hand in farewell before departing. The look Obi-Wan had given him from his hospital bed had been inscrutable, the tension they both loved plucking at thrumming between them, and with a thrill of excitement, Qui-Gon realised that it could be about to reach its crescendo.

Obi-Wan spun his lightsaber in elaborate twirls before bowing deeply, his reverent posture juxtaposed by the heated look he gave Qui-Gon through his lashes. Qui-Gon rolled his eyes, _show off_ , and Obi-Wan grinned.

Qui-Gon’s lightsaber came to life in his hands, humming in his palms, and he took a steadying stance. Neither of them moved for a long moment, Obi-Wan bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet and Qui-Gon rooted to the floor.

Tension crackled in the room, the hairs on the back of Qui-Gon’s neck rising and his heart thumping in anticipation. His blood thrummed through his veins and he felt so unbelievably alive, his senses heightened, and more attuned to the force than he ever remembered being.

He charged suddenly, hoping to catch Obi-Wan off guard, but he deftly dodged his attack, swiftly twisting away with almost unnatural speed.

It was a harsh fight, and it was foolish of Qui-Gon to think that Obi-Wan would hold anything back. He gave everything his all and his fighting style was no different; vicious and sharp-edged, but controlled, and he was so gorgeous it sent Qui-Gon’s pulse racing.

Back and forth they clashed, Qui-Gon charging forward and Obi-Wan knocking him back, and he thought back to the crashing waves; one immovable object crashing against another in a violent display of raw power.

Ducking and weaving, twirling and twisting, they danced around each other. Obi-Wan feigned to the left and Qui-Gon fell for it before he realised, jumping away too late from Obi-Wan’s swipe at his feet. It caught his ankle and he stumbled. Recovering, he swung around but Obi-Wan’s raised forearm stopped the blow from landing and he threw him back. Qui-Gon swore.

He was breathing hard, sweat gathering on his brow and he was certain a flush had risen on his cheeks. Obi-Wan looked unruffled, magnificent. He grinned impishly at Qui-Gon. “Tired already, old man?”

Qui-Gon growled and lunged, viciously satisfied when Obi-Wan retreated backwards under the sheer strength of his onslaught. He didn’t stop, raining down attack after attack, backing Obi-Wan across the room. Obi-Wan met each blow, but strength wasn’t his forte, his arms shaking under the strain.

Just when Qui-Gon thought he had the upper hand, Obi-Wan twisted to the side unexpectedly, unbalancing Qui-Gon mid-strike and he fell forward, seamlessly transitioning into a roll before Obi-Wan’s blade hit the floor an inch from where his head had been a second ago.

He rolled smoothly to his feet and they stood staring at each other, breathing hard.

Belatedly, Qui-Gon realised he was hard.

Obi-Wan’s eyes flicked down briefly before catching Qui-Gon’s gaze and slowly licking his lips. “If you wish to bed me Master Jinn,” His voice was pitched low, and desire curled lazily in Qui-Gon’s gut, “You must first best me in battle.”

This thing between them had been growing ever since Obi-Wan had been knighted, maybe even before then, if Qui-Gon was in a particularly honest mood. It had started with heated glances and subtle innuendos disguised as innocent comments. Their usual witty banter turning into such shameless flirting that it would make Anakin groan and dig the heels of his hands into his eyes and they’d just laugh. They danced around each other like two stars in an elliptical orbit, coming so close but never quite touching, before moving away again, over and over.

It became a game. How ridiculous could they get, how high could they ratchet this tension between them, before one of them snapped? They’d flirt at every chance they got: in front of foreign dignitaries, in the middle of negotiations, while tied up in front of a monologuing mob boss. Even in front of the council on one memorable occasion that had made Mace’s eye twitch so violently and a vein pulse in his forehead that Qui-Gon had been genuinely concerned.

Although not enough to stop.

Anticipation and excitement tumbled through Qui-Gon and he took a steadying breath. “Then I hope you don’t have anything planned for tomorrow,” He said, “Because I don’t intend on letting you leave my bed once you’re in it.”

He took advantage of Obi-Wan’s momentary shock and lunged forward to kick his feet out from under him. Obi-Wan went down in a heap, but his speed had always been his greatest strength and he swiftly took out Qui-Gon’s knees. Qui-Gon struck out blindly but hit nothing.

“Arrogance, Master?” Obi-Wan tutted from behind him.

Qui-Gon spun around as he stood, arcing his lightsaber, and they clashed, blue against green, sizzling together. “Imp,” Qui-Gon growled, the heaviness of his breathing causing the words to rumble in his chest. “It’s not arrogance if you can back it up.” Obi-Wan’s lips parted tantalisingly and he looked deliciously flushed.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan said, smiling flirtatiously, “I sincerely hope you can back it up,” Obi-Wan thrust their lightsabers up before bringing the pommel down onto Qui-Gon’s chest and standing on his foot, sending him crashing to the floor.

He kicked Qui-Gon’s lightsaber out of his hand and stood triumphantly over him, the blade of his ridiculously ornate lightsaber coming to hover at his throat.

“Fuck,” Qui-Gon gasped, head thudding to the floor. “I yield,” He said, fire and such ferocious want spiraling through him at how Obi-Wan was staring down at him, his eyes alight with victory and his chest heaving.

Obi-Wan laughed freely, eyes crinkling at the corners, the sounds of his mirth echoing around the chamber. He shut off his lightsaber and offered Qui-Gon a hand, pulling him up with such strength they were practically nose to nose.

The tension in the room pulled tight, intense and suffocating. The heat of the fight was still coursing through Qui-Gon’s veins, nowhere near abating, and the look in Obi-Wan’s eyes only stoked the fire. He needed, gods he _needed_.

He’d already lost the battle, he might as well lose the war as well.

He clasped Obi-Wan’s neck in his palm and slanted his lips over Obi-Wan’s. A sound left Qui-Gon’s throat at how easily Obi-Wan’s lips parted underneath his and he coaxed his mouth open to slide his tongue against Obi-Wan’s. Obi-Wan reached up and slid his fingers across Qui-Gon’s jaw, making a hitched sound of pleasure somewhere between a whimper and a moan that made Qui-Gon feel lightheaded.

Qui-Gon drew back to gasp a breath before being inexorably drawn back in, exploring Obi-Wan’s mouth slowly and deeply, relishing in how Obi-Wan melted shamelessly against him. He took his time, savouring the taste of Obi-Wan, gently nipping at his lips and then thoroughly exploring his mouth, trying to draw every pleasured sound out of Obi-Wan that he could. Now he knew what he sounded like, all he craved was to know what he would sound like spread out on Qui-Gon’s bed, writhing in pleasure and completely at his mercy.

Obi-Wan pulled back a scant inch, “I believe I said you had to best me,” He murmured, his voice strangled and trying his best to hide it but failing completely.

Qui-Gon huffed an unsteady breath, “After that show?” He murmured, “I would challenge any man to resist you after that.”

Obi-Wan groaned and pulled him into a fierce kiss.

“We should leave,” Obi-Wan said, breathlessly a few minutes later.

“Are you sure?” Qui-Gon asked. He knew what _he_ wanted. He wanted Obi-Wan. All his days and all his nights, all his smiles and all his tears. He wanted to wake up next to him every morning and fall asleep next to him every night, he wanted to share cups of tea and his favourite books of poetry with him, he wanted to complain about the council to him and laugh at Obi-Wan’s scarily accurate impression of Mace. He wanted to grow old with him, to retire to a little cottage on a world filled with forests and wildflowers where he could be a crotchety old man and Obi-Wan would just sigh exasperatedly at his antics and smile fondly.

He wanted everything.

But most of all, he wanted it only as long as Obi-Wan did. For all their flirting, it didn’t actually mean that Obi-Wan wanted what he did. It was a wholly different thing to actually commit to the thing you’d been teasing for the past five years.

Obi-Wan’s smile was almost shy, “I’ve never been surer about anything.”

Qui-Gon could only nod with barely concealed awe, and together they left the salle. It was hard to tell which one of them was in more of a hurry, both still near to bursting with excess energy despite their spar. Every time their hands brushed it sent a jolt of electricity through Qui-Gon.

“Force, I missed you,” Qui-Gon said, when they finally got to Obi-Wan’s quarters. He backed Obi-Wan against the door and buried his nose in his neck, breathing in greedy lungfuls of his scent and trailing his nose up the line of his neck to his ear.

Obi-Wan whimpered, desperately pulling Qui-Gon closer by his robes.

“You should fuck me,” Qui-Gon breathed, pulling back to rest his forehead against Obi-Wan’s. “I did lose after all. And all that _power_ , force Obi-Wan, you’re magnificent.”

“You- really?” Obi-Wan asked, hands fumbling to get Qui-Gon’s robes off when he nodded. He was so hard against Qui-Gon’s thigh. “Fuck.”

“That’s the idea.”

Obi-Wan shot him a sardonic look and Qui-Gon grinned, “Shut up and strip.”

Qui-Gon’s belly jolted at the commanding tone and he stepped back to throw off his robes. Or, well, tried to, but it was apparently impossible for them to keep their hands to themselves, the overwhelming need to touch and kiss each other now that they’d _finally_ given in to this thing between them.

When Qui-Gon finally stood naked in front of Obi-Wan, he was finally still enough for Qui-Gon to strip him bare as well, pressing his fingers into the soft skin as it was revealed.

“You’re beautiful,” Qui-Gon whispered, reverent, and Obi-Wan blushed.

Obi-Wan stared up at him with heated eyes, “On the bed.”

Qui-Gon breathlessly obeyed, feeling oddly vulnerable laid out on his back with Obi-Wan’s gaze trailing over him from the foot of the bed. He was used to being on the other side of this, his past lovers always assuming that because of his size he would be dominant and take the lead. His heart jolted when he realised that there hadn’t been anyone before Obi-Wan that he’d trusted enough to do this with.

Obi-Wan moved to kneel on the bed and smoothed his hands slowly up Qui-Gon’s thighs. “Have you ever done this before?”

He shook his head, “Only with toys. You’re the first.”

Obi-Wan’s fingers tightened possessively against his legs, and he reached up to drag the fingers of one hand slowly up and down Qui-Gon’s cock, exploratory. Qui-Gon groaned.

“I missed you,” Obi-Wan said, and he nearly missed it for how softly the words were spoken. “I feel like part of me is missing when you’re not here. I know I shouldn’t feel this way, it’s not proper.” When Obi-Wan lifted his gaze to his face, Qui-Gon’s belly jolted, his eyes so intense. “But I find that I don’t care.”

“I will always be with you, my Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan’s lips twitched, his gaze growing soft, “Yes, I suppose you will be.”

Retrieving the lube, Obi-Wan warmed it in his palms before pressing a slick finger to Qui-Gon’s hole. He didn’t press, just gently rubbed there letting Qui-Gon get used to the sensations. He pressed down, tilting his hips and spreading himself to encourage Obi-Wan to hurry up.

Obi-Wan pushed his finger in, slow and teasing, bending to take the tip of Qui-Gon’s cock into his mouth. Qui-Gon groaned, thrusting his hips up and down, not sure whether to chase the pleasure of Obi-Wan’s mouth or his fingers, aching and turned on and so desperate to be filled.

“More,” Qui-Gon gasped, and Obi-Wan obeyed, pulling back to flash him a quick smile before pressing further in and curling his fingers until Qui-Gon saw sparks, letting out a moan that in any other situation he’d be mortified by. More, he needed more.

It was intoxicating, this feeling. Giving himself over and letting someone else take control, submitting to the pleasure and just letting himself be carried along by the waves. He couldn’t think of a time he ever let anyone take control like this, take care of him.

Qui-Gon’s hips jerked at a particularly hard press of Obi-Wan’s fingers and Obi-Wan groaned around his cock, the sound vibrating through his body and turning his breathing shaky. He stared unseeingling at the ceiling, pleasure roiling through him at the slide of Obi-Wan’s mouth and the push and pull of his fingers.

“Fuck, stop,” Qui-Gon said, and Obi-Wan immediately pulled back. “I need you in me. Now.”

Obi-Wan laughed, hurrying to slick himself up with shaky hands. “Patience Master,” and then, “Oh- fuck,”

Qui-Gon grunted, hands gripping and twisting the sheets before burying themselves in Obi-Wan’s hair. It was so deliciously long now, much better than the shaved padawan cut. And while he mourned the loss of the braid, he supposed now he had something else to grab on to, and for completely different reasons than before.

Obi-Wan’s hips pushed his legs apart, spreading him wide and holding him there while they settled together, his cock buried inside him.

They couldn’t look away from each other.

Qui-Gon had used many toys before, but none of them could have prepared him for how it would feel with a real cock. It was so much better, the stretch and the fullness so much more satisfying and he sunk into the feeling, groaning his pleasure.

Obi-Wan slowly rolled his hips, biting his lip, and Qui-Gon reached up to rest his palm against Obi-Wan’s cheek. Obi-Wan turned his head to kiss the tips of his fingers, briefly sucking them into his mouth with a cheeky smile.

Obi-Wan’s hips began a steady rhythm, his thrusts slow and smooth and Qui-Gon trailed his fingers down Obi-Wan’s neck, feeling his erratic pulse, before coming to rest over his heart.

On a particularly hard thrust Qui-Gon cursed, his hand flying up to brace himself against the wall behind his head, and he reached down with his other hand to loosely grasp his cock. He stroked himself slowly, not enough to get off but enough to tease and keep the pleasure building. Obi-Wan’s gaze was fixed on Qui-Gon’s fingers as he played with himself, and he groaned in unabashed appreciation at the display, nails digging into his thighs.

He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, completely fixed on the feeling of Obi-Wan’s cock and staring shamelessly at his slack, lust-filled expression.

“Harder,” Qui-Gon moaned. Obi-Wan’s hips jerked and he hitched Qui-Gon’s long legs over his arms, struggling a little but getting a better angle and startling loud groans out of them both, before laughing at each other and then groaning again when Obi-Wan’s hips picked up speed.

Qui-Gon tightened his fist around his cock, twisting on the upstroke and feeling the tingling heat of climax start to coalesce. He was torn between getting off or drawing it out and basking in the delicious, slow decadent build up of pleasure, Obi-Wan around him, in him, like he always had been, but now in the flesh, Obi-Wan’s face awash with pleasure.

“Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan gasped breathlessly, “I want-”

“Anything, my Obi-Wan,” Qui-Gon breathed, “Anything for you,”

“I want to feel you come while I’m inside you,” Obi-Wan said urgently. “Please, I-”

Qui-Gon knew he was close, his thrusts growing erratic, eyes squeezed shut and his face flushed. He quickened his hand on his cock, not needing much with Obi-Wan so thoroughly surrounding him and overwhelming his senses, the play of emotions across his handsome face so exquisite. Obi-Wan suddenly opened his eyes, bright in the low light of the room, and Qui-Gon’s breath hitched. He came hard on his stomach, a deep throb of pleasure that spread out in waves through his muscles, leaving him boneless. He dug his nails into the bed and all he could see and hear and feel was Obi-Wan, only Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan pulled in a ragged breath and buried his face in Qui-Gon’s neck, letting out a strained and guttural cry as he came a moment later, hips stuttering and grinding up into Qui-Gon until the last pulses of his orgasm faded away.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, Obi-Wan’s breath coming out in tiny gasps against Qui-Gon’s neck. Qui-Gon let his trembling legs fall back against the bed and wrapped his arms around Obi-Wan, breathing out a contented half-sigh, half-moan.

When Obi-Wan pulled back, Qui-Gon smiled softly at him and stroked his damp hair back behind his ear. Qui-Gon sighed when Obi-Wan’s cock slipped out of him.

“I’ll go clean up,” Obi-Wan said, pausing when Qui-Gon’s hand wrapped around his wrist.

“Stay, instead,” He whispered, not wanting to be without Obi-Wan, even for a moment, so soon after he’d returned. Obi-Wan smiled shyly, even after what they’d just done together, and leaned forward to press a soft kiss to Qui-Gon’s lips before settling warm and comfortable between his legs, head resting over his heart.

Qui-Gon dragged his fingers idly through Obi-Wan’s hair, smoothing the messy strands. To think they had spent so long getting to this point, Qui-Gon thought he might feel regret at all the lost years they could’ve been doing this. But in truth, it felt right. They wouldn’t have been ready all those years ago, and Obi-Wan had needed to grow into the exceptional Knight he was, free from the shadow of Qui-Gon and his careless choices.

It was a wonder Obi-Wan could feel anything akin to love for him at all after what he’d done.

“I can hear you thinking,” Obi-Wan pouted, voice muffled against Qui-Gon’s chest. He lifted his head, looking up at him with a flat look, but his voice was soft and affectionate, “I could never regret this. Regret you. You mean the world to me, and if you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

Qui-Gon smirked, “Oh, I’ll have you alright.”

“You sodding-,” Obi-Wan grabbed a pillow and shoved it into Qui-Gon’s face, muffling his laughter and they wrestled on the bed, tossing and turning until Qui-Gon gained the upper hand and pinned Obi-Wan underneath him.

Their laughter trailed off and Qui-Gon spoke, voice suddenly hushed and serious, “You are my heart, Obi-Wan. I am not whole without you.”

Obi-Wan’s face went slack and he swallowed hard. His lips parted, but no sound came out, and then Qui-Gon was pulled into a slow, messy kiss. He leant his weight on his elbow, slowly turning them until Obi-Wan was sprawled inelegantly across his chest, their lips hardly parting.

“We’ve ruined the sheets,” Obi-Wan murmured, not sounding like he actually cared about that fact.

“Stay anyway,” Qui-Gon whispered back, kissing Obi-Wan again and again, luxuriating in the ease of it.


End file.
